You have to hand it to The Caxton Theatre - they may be in their 75th year, but they are still finding fresh, exciting ways to entertain.

For Murder’s in the Heir is a play like no other, breathing new life into a set-up you’ve seen many times before.

All the staples of your typical country mansion detective thriller are present and correct – a whole host of shady suspects each possessing their own means, motive and opportunity and a plot that twists and turns to culminate in that oh-so-familiar dramatic final reveal whereby the killer is unmasked…

Think you’ve heard this one before? Think you know where this is going? Think again. For when the time comes for that dramatic final reveal, everything changes and the genre is flipped brilliantly on its head. For here, the audience takes control.

It is we who determine the crooked culprit. It’s a hook that’s hard to resist, especially since it opens up the potential to expose a completely different murderer every single time.

This is how it works. Before you take your seat for the evening, you will be provided with a slip of paper, a ballot of sorts, identifying all the possible wrong-doers. (I would also recommend purchasing a programme, which helpfully contains a family tree tracking who everybody is and detailing their relationship to the victim).

The audience can take an active part in guessing who committed the crime (Image: Submitted photo)

Then, at the interval, by which point blood has been fatally spilled, you will be asked to weigh up the evidence thus far presented (whilst at the bar, perhaps) and, using your best Sherlockian skills, make an informed deduction as to who you believe to be the guilty party.

This is all explained, in a rather clever, meta fashion by the marvellous director, Gemma Dodds, who, aside from masterminding the production, also steps in to explain the reason for the audience participation, playing a version of herself in the process.

She informs that we are in fact watching a play; a play that remains unfinished due to the playwright’s inability to settle upon an ending. He has written several, each one uncovering a different assailant. And that’s where we come in to lend a helping hand…

The play-within-a-play construct occasionally means we have actors (themselves playing actors playing roles) breaking character, and several more appearances from Dodds (as director playing director), but, for the most part, what follows is straight-up Agatha Christie fodder (albeit taken to the extreme), with a few hearty laughs thrown in for good measure.

The first act does its job perfectly, sowing the seeds and lining up more or less every character as a potential prime suspect. Pretty much everybody has a reason to want ailing billionaire Simon Starkweather dead, especially after hearing the contents of his will, which divides his fortune up generously between his heirs and house staff.

That is, at least, until his new, revised will comes into effect the following day, resulting in those previously promised such riches receiving a mere pittance by comparison. Starkweather, played with maniacal flair by a charismatic John Ferguson, instead plans to donate his money to science, in an ambitious bid to clone himself…

With their inheritance practically disappearing before their eyes, one can only assume the tyrannical old man has not long for this world. And, sure enough… Only question is, whodunnit?

Aided by detective in residence Mel Davis (Claire Wright), we’re spoiled for choice, thanks to the fourteen-strong cast’s sterling work, conjuring up an array of colourful characters to investigate. Could it be Bensonhurst the Butler (Jack Scott).

Never trust a butler… Or, maybe Rufus the Handyman (George Mansfield), responsible maybe for more than just all the best one-liners? Or Gail Littefair’s feisty cook, Minerva, carrying a knife late at night supposedly for chopping up onions and nothing more.

Or how about Nurse Withers (Alison Dempsey), surely the last person to see Starkweather alive? And that’s before we consider the family… his befuddled niece Fiona (Debbie Appleyard) with her suspicious supply of pills or her odious slime-ball of a son (and Starkweather’s greedy great-nephew) Jordan (a standout Dane Nielsen) to name but two.

Jordan, in particular, was a grotesque creation, the very personification of slippery sleaze, and, as such, my personal pick for the perpetrator of the crime. But, therein lies the fun of the play; somebody else may feel totally different, and, suddenly, you’re looking at a whole other version of events.

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As such, I’d quite happily see it again, and again, and again… You don’t know what’s going to happen, right up until the last minute, and that affords the whole production an energy and a vigour and an unpredictably that is positively palpable and very, very exciting to watch (every time).

Not knowing the denouement until halfway-in keeps the actors on their toes, too (all wonderful, sorry I couldn’t name them all), resulting in incredibly adrenalized performances sure to change from night to night due to the fact that even they don’t know who did the deed until the time comes.

It’s like Cluedo, live… and every bit as good as that sounds! Ever fancied yourself as the next Miss Marple or Columbo… now’s your chance…

The show runs until Saturday, September 8.

The performance begins at 7.30pm with the bar open beforehand.

Ticket prices start at £7.50 per person available from the Heritage Centre in Grimsby, the Tourist Information Office within Cleethorpes Library or www.caxtontheatre.com